


The Song of the Rocks

by Razmerry



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: As in I gave rock some family members, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28889163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razmerry/pseuds/Razmerry
Summary: Rock Patch wakes up by the lake. The sun is soft and warm on his fur, and he can hear the pebbles gently clicking in the waves.It's a good memory.
Kudos: 3





	The Song of the Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short story that I wrote over the course of a couple years imagining a backstory for Rock, which incidentally made me grow very attached to this version of him. Whoops.   
> I've heard somewhere that he was supposedly an old medicine cat equivalent, but I made him the first sharpclaw because, I dunno, symbolism.

Tiny paws skittered on hard stone as a dark gray she-cat bounded over them, skidding across the damp rocks. Grinning, a glossy brown tom easily stepped out of her way as she slid across the stones, moss crinkling up beneath her paws. “Rock Patch!” she mewed in frustration as the tom hissed with laughter, neatly picking his way across the rocks. “No fair! It’s too wet to play chase.” Rock Patch flicked the she-cat’s nose with his tail teasingly as she scrabbled around to get up.

“It’s not my fault you decided to take a nosedive across it, Clover Runner,” he purred, smoothly leaping down onto the sandy shore. Huffing, Clover Runner flounced up, her fluffy tail plastered onto the wet stone. Down on the beach, two cats were sitting together, side by side with their paws curled under their body. Rock Patch casually walked over, settling down beside them. A dark brown tabby she-cat cast a worried glance at Clover Runner, who was still trying to get her footing on rocks, but Rock Patch ignored her, his blue eyes cool. The other she-cat, her smooth tan pelt rippling along her spine, narrowed her eyes at Rock Patch. 

“Come on, Rock Patch,” she said. “You shouldn’t leave her stranded up there. What if she fell?” Rock Patch rolled his eyes, though he did stand up. 

“She’s seven moons old, Leopard Petal,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “She’s plenty able to get down from the River-rocks.” However, this statement was contradicted by a yelp of pain from Clover Runner as she slipped out of sight, her paws shooting out from underneath her. Leopard Petal turned smugly to Rock Patch, who hissed in annoyance. 

“Oh, for— do I have to do everything around here? I’m only three moons older than you and her, Leopard Petal, but I ought to be leader with what everyone asks of me…” Before Leopard Petal could shoot something back, Rock Patch stood up and leapt up the River-rocks, his paws landing gracefully on every slick surface. His tail vanished over the side with a flick, and he returned in a second with Clover Runner’s scruff clamped in his jaws. The she-cat twisted, squeaking in anger, but Rock Patch didn’t let go until he was a few feet above the shore. Then he swung her out of his mouth, and she landed on her side on the sand, leaving damp skid marks. The brown tabby she-cat jumped up, leaping over to Clover Runner to make sure she was okay. 

“Rock Patch!” she scolded as the tom made his way down the rocks again, leaving damp pawprints in the wet sand. “Be more careful!” Rock Patch grinned as he passed by his mother, his long tail streaming out behind him. 

“Aw, come on, Dove Storm,” he said, chuckling. “Lay off. Clover Runner’s perfectly fine. Now, if she couldn’t survive a little drop like that, then I’d be worried…” Dove Storm let out a huge, exasperated sigh, though it was clear she couldn’t be mad at him for long. 

“Honestly…” she said, rasping a tongue over Clover Runner’s silky gray fur. “You’ve got more desire to burn than a fire does.” Rock Patch grinned, dabbing one paw in the icy water and watching the ripples spread across the lake. 

“You don’t know what’s coming yet,” he replied, grinning as he was the waves flicker out onto the water. “Someday I’m going to blow you all away, and you won’t know what to make of it!” Laughing quietly, he laid his head down on his paws, feeling thick-headed and sleepy as the sunlight shone down on him. After a moments he drifted into a peaceful sleep, with soft black waves lapping at his mind. 

It seemed like only a second passed before Rock Patch blinked his eyes open, staring out over the lake. Standing up, his mouth gaping in a huge yawn, he realized that Dove Storm was walking up to him. Rock Patch sprang onto his paws, itching to go into the forest. 

“I’m going to go hunting, ‘kay?” he said as Dove Storm approached him, the sunlight warming his fur. Shaking out his pelt, he began to dash for the woods, tiny bursts of sand thrown up in his wake. 

“Rock Patch— wait!” Dove Storm suddenly called out, and Rock Patch skidded to a halt, annoyed, and turned back to the older she-cat. Dove Storm trotted up to him, the sun sliding over her dark tabby pelt. “Clover Runner went out earlier today. Do me a solid and find her, will you?” 

“Seriously?” Rock Patch said incredulously, already turning away. “Do you keep forgetting she’s not a little kit anymore? She can find her own way through the forest.” 

“Do it all the same,” Dove Storm shot back, stepping in front of Rock Patch. “You must have forgotten that you’re not a little kit anymore. Surely a ten-moon old cat can be counted on to help his family out?” Rock Patch’s scowl deepened, but finally he dropped his head, nodding. 

“Fine, fine,” he muttered, trotting away. “Don’t step on my tail about it.” Dove Storm watched him disappear into the forest, then shook her head, quietly sighing. 

\--------

His tail flicking from side to side, Rock Patch darted through the forest, ears pricked for any sign of prey. Finally he caught the scent of rabbit on the breeze, and dropped into a crouch, quietly slinking over the leaves. Making sure to lift his tail just above the rubble so it didn’t make a sound, he prowled over the ground until he caught sight of the rabbit, hopping along and pausing every so often to nibble at a frond of clover. Swiping his tongue over his lips, Rock Patch gathered power in his hind legs, preparing to pounce. Before he could, though, the bushes rustled, and the rabbit’s head snapped up. A dark gray shape popped out of the foliage towards Rock Patch, her blue eyes bright. Within a second the rabbit fled, speeding away into the bracken. Rock Patch sat up, glowering at Clover Runner, who stared back, completely oblivious. 

“That was my catch!” he snapped, storming up to her. Clover Runner cowered under his icy blue glare, pressing herself to the ground. 

“Oh… I’m sorry…” she murmured, paws shuffling on the forest floor. Rock Patch ignored her and padded on, nose in the air to try and catch a sign of any more prey by him . 

“Whatever,” he growled, flicking his tail at her nose to silence her. “Be quiet— I think it’s still nearby. Maybe I can still get it.” Obediently Clover Runner clamped her jaws shut, thick gray fur ruffling in anticipation. Making sure that she was staying still, Rock Patch turned away and began to stalk forwards again, setting down each paw so lightly it barely disturbed the leaves at all. He moved silently through the forest, until he spotted the rabbit sheltering under a bush a few tail-lengths away. He waited a moment, sizing it up, then exploded out of cover at it, his claws swiping furiously. Just a split second before he struck, the rabbit whipped around and darted away, with Rock Patch right on its tail. 

The wind howled in his face as he sped after the rabbit, his claws flinging up chunks of sod. Behind him, he could faintly hear pawsteps as Clover Runner blundered after him, but he ignored her and focused on the chase ahead. Finally, just when he was about to close his jaws around the rabbit, it veered sharply right and vanished down a hole. However, Rock Patch couldn’t stop in time, and he crashed right into a tangle of roots at full force. “Ack!” he spluttered as Clover Runner caught up to him, clearly covering up a spurt of laughter. 

“You okay there?” she asked, chuckling, as Rock Patch struggled to free his arm from where it was stuck in the roots. Growling, he scrabbled at the wood even more angrily, until, with a final hiss he wrenched it out of the roots, sending dirt and pebbles showering into a pit below. 

A pit?

Curious, Rock Patch padded up to the hole he had created and peered down into it, shocked to see a cavern extending far down beneath the territory. Excitement flooded him, and without a moment’s hesitation he leapt down into the hole, landing on hard stone. Clover Runner yelped in fear, but Rock Patch couldn’t even hear her as he stared out across the expanses of dark tunnels, stretching past anything he had ever dreamed of. “Whoa…” he breathed. “Clover Runner! You have to see this!” There was a moment of silence, then Clover Runner poked her head over the rim of the hole, her ears flattened against her head. 

“Oh… but it looks so scary—”

“Come on!” Rock Patch said, exasperated, and cocked his tail up at her. A worried expression still on her face, Clover Runner crouched and scrambled into the hole, her pelt covered with stray bits of leaves. The second she saw the tunnels, her eyes widened, and she began to try and scrabble back out of the hole, finally managing to claw her way up on a dangling tree root. Baffle, Rock Patch sprung out of the tunnels behind her, but she had already vanished. The next moment he spotted her making her way back in the direction of the dens, nearly in a dead sprint. Quickly catching up, he skidded in front of her, pelt bristling along his spine. “Hey, where are you going?”

“We have to tell Dove Storm, and Leopard Petal, a-and everyone about this!” Clover Runner panted. She tried to move again, but Rock Patch still blocked her way, his blue eyes narrowed. 

“Why, though?” he asked, his voice suddenly wheedling. “What would they do with the tunnels? Imagine, Clover Runner— we’re the only two cats who know about their existence. If we explore them, scope them out, we can be the ones to tell the rest of the cats about it, not Leopard Petal. So, come on, what do you say? How about we keep this our little secret, for now?” Clover Runner looked frozen, her paws scuffling uneasily on the ground. 

“W-well…” she stammered, her eyes flicking from side to side. “O-okay, I guess… for now…” Rock Patch nodded, perking up again. 

“Great!” he chirped, suddenly bounding away. “Now let’s go see if we can track down another rabbit, or even a squirrel.” Clover Runner nodded, though she didn’t look half as excited as her brother. Thrill was pounding through Rock Patch’s mind as he thought of what secrets the tunnels might hide, what wonders and incredible things he could discover. And when Leopard Petal and all the rest heard about, he knew for a fact that they’d be impressed. It was going to be the most fun, and the biggest, adventure of his entire life. 

He couldn’t wait to get started… 

Part 2:

Two icy blue eyes glittered in the foliage like tiny shards of ice, then with a near-silent hush a feline shape crept out, breaking into a quick trot once he had left the bush. There was a slight chill in the air that day, odd for the warm season. Rock Patch fluffed out his pelt as he followed the trail he’d worn with his pawprints many moons before. Some days Clover Runner had tagged along behind him; some she hadn’t. Rock Patch rolled his eyes as he thought of her today, dark gray tail spiked out like a bristlecone behind her.

“ ‘Ehh, I can’t come, Rock Patch,’ ” he muttered, mimicking her worried mew. “ ‘Ehh, what if Frozen River finds out? Ehh, I’m too scared…’ well, she can whimper at the dens all she likes. I just know I’m going to find something great today--” Rock Patch stopped cold as a rancid stench suddenly caught his nose. 

It took him a second to identify the source of the scent, and the next to realize what it was. 

“Fox!” he hissed.

Just as he said it, two blazing amber eyes appeared in the foliage, and with a chilling scream the fox shot out at him, jaws snapping in the air where Rock Patch had been just a heartbeat ago. Whipping around, Rock Patch launched himself away from the fox, hitting the ground running. His claws dug into the earth and ripped up clods of dirt and plant roots as he frantically sped away, the fox just on his tail. Rock Patch could feel the fox’s hot breath on his fur, hear its slavering jaws, and when he saw a dark hole in front of his nose, he plunged blindly in, mind crazed with fear. 

Earth showered down around him, choking him as he breathed it in and sticking to his eyes. With a crash, Rock Patch landed on the floor of wherever he was, and not wasting a second he took off again, running until he couldn’t hear anything else. Then he collapsed on the ground, chest heaving with the sudden exertion. Only then could he sneeze the dirt from his nose and try to figure out where he was. With a cold sting of dread, he quickly recognized the sloping, dark tunnel walls and the unearthly chill in the air. 

Without even knowing it, he had chased himself into the tunnels--and he didn’t know at all where an exit was. 

Slowly Rock Patch got to his paws, listening for even the slightest sound. The silence echoed all around him, stifling in its stillness. Rock Patch hefted himself into motion, stepping so quietly his paws made no sound on the stony floor. For what seemed like an eternity he wandered around the maze of tunnels, one dark stretch leading into another. Finally a sound came to his ears, so faint he nearly missed it. It was a drop of water striking the ground, a quiet tapping in the otherwise deathly-silent caves. 

Rock Patch pricked his ears, attempting to discover the source of the water. After a moment he deduced it was coming from somewhere just up ahead, so he began to make his way towards the water, a little louder and faster. In his haste to escape the terrifying tunnels, though, he veered around a corner and smashed into a solid stone wall, a bolt of pain shooting through his paw as it folded against the wall. Yowling, Rock Patch jumped back, electric shocks running up his paw whenever he set it on the ground. Gritting his teeth, he tried to follow the dripping of the water, awkwardly limping along until the tunnel spread out into an expansive cavern. Rock Patch stopped on a shelf of rock jutting out over the cave, staring with trepidation over the side. 

Just beneath him was a thickly flowing band of water, a dark river cutting through the cavern like a claw. A tiny spark of hope flaring inside his chest, Rock Patch glanced around him to see if there was any way down from the shelf. On his left side, a clump of rocks led down to the river, and though they looked dangerous, Rock Patch decided that he had to get off somehow. So, curling his injured paw beneath his body, he carefully lowered himself down the rocks, making absolutely certain the rock was stable before he stood on it. After an agonizingly slow descent, Rock Patch stumbled out by the river, his paws scraping on the sandy shore. 

As he looked over the water, he suddenly realized how thirsty he was, and quickly shoved his muzzle into the river, flinching at its icy sting. Still, though, he drank his fill, then pulled away crumpled, exhausted, by the river until sleep swept down on him. 

For three days after that Rock Patch wandered aimlessly about the tunnels, searching for any path to escape from the depressing silence. Each time he went out his wrenched paw ached, and his heart longed for the surface world; with sunshine and trees, with friends and kin, with noise and something other than this terrible, dark silence. Rock Patch’s stomach was always empty, and what meager food he could find only consisted of tiny fish from the river, or a mouse foolish enough to stray into the tunnels. 

One day while he was dragging himself around the tunnels, still searching though he had no hope of finding an exit, he came across what felt like a steep incline. Leaning forwards, Rock Patch traced his whiskers along it and felt ground-up stone and earth, ascending to a small speck of light in the ceiling.

Cautiously, but not letting go of a hope of freedom, Rock Patch unsheathed his claws and sank them into the wall of earth, curling gravel beneath his paws. With an effort he shoved his uninjured paw forwards, grasping higher on the wall, and hauled his body upwards. The roof above his head was low and tight, and often Rock Patch’s ears were flattened by the sheer rock. Eventually, though, one painful movement at a time, Rock Patch began to smell the scents of the forest, and started to imagine that he could be freed from the tunnels’ prison. 

With a gasp Rock Patch’s head erupted from a slit of earth, emerging into the forest he called home. Excitement exploded in his mind, and with a massive push he heaved himself out, finally leaving the last traces of the darkness behind. For a moment he stood still and dazed, his head spinning from happiness and relief. Then black spots fuzzed in his eyes, and he stumbled for a moment, his paws trembling, and crashed muzzle-first onto the ground. 

“Rock Patch?” someone above him said. 

Rock Patch looked up and met two wide eyes, deep green and belonging to Dove Storm. Immediately she pounced on him, covering his head with rasping licks. “You’re alive!” Dove Storm mewed, her voice heavy with relief. “But you look dead on your paws…” Dove Storm paused for a moment, letting the silence lengthen between the two cats, then quietly said, “W… where were you?” Oddly enough, Rock Patch didn’t snap back indignantly, defensive in his answer, but instead answered her calmly and readily. 

“I… I was in the tunnels,” he replied, to Dove Storm’s gasp of fear. “But I didn’t go there on purpose, I promise--wait, how do you know what the tunnels are?” Dove Storm looked away, a shadow falling over her face. Gently she put her tail on his shoulder and started to lead him back to the dens, talking all the way. 

“At first we thought you had just been out hunting and forgot to return, but after a moonrise or two, I realized it was more than that. Frozen River demanded someone tell where you were, and that’s when Clover Runner spoke up… she told us you had found tunnels on your own, and how you were most likely down there. But she couldn’t find the entrance, and after another day we gave up hope…” She cast a look at Rock Patch, who stared back with exhausted blue eyes, and gave him a small smile. “But now you have come back.”

Rock Patch simply nodded to that, his mind working, and before he knew it he and Dove Storm were padding into the dens, where a few other cats were milling about. Rock Patch stopped short as a large   
tom with smoky-white fur and sharp blue eyes leapt across the clearing, his lip pulled back in a scowl. “Frozen River,” Rock Patch murmured, a twinge of uneasiness striking him as more cats emerged from their dens to watch, whispering among each other as they stared at Rock Patch. 

“Rock Patch,” Frozen River returned, pacing up to Rock Patch. “What are these tunnels, and why did you vanish into them?” Rock Patch hesitated for a moment. Still he was reluctant to tell anyone what he had done in the tunnels, how he had visited in secret for many moons.

Finally, scuffling his paws, Rock Patch admitted, “I was chased by a fox into the tunnels, and I couldn’t find my way for such a long time.” Frozen River narrowed his eyes, tail flicking. Rock Patch swallowed, aware that Frozen River knew there was more to the story than that. He inhaled a deep breath, quelling an arrogant temper that threatened to rise up. For a second he considered how being alone and forced out of company had diminished his rashness, and as he did an idea struck his mind like a badger’s claw. In one swift movement, Rock Patch brushed past Frozen River, ignoring the tom’s cry of surprise, and sprung up onto the boulder, yowling to draw all the cats’ attention to himself. Frozen River moved to stop him, but already cats were filling up the clearing below Rock Patch, and angrily Frozen River stepped away, waiting for Rock Patch to speak. 

“If you haven’t already heard,” Rock Patch began, his voice echoing around the dens. “For the past four sunrises I was trapped in a maze of tunnels beneath our territory, split by an icy-cold river cutting through them.” Rock Patch waited for the shocked murmurs and comments to die down before continuing. “It was… a difficult experience. I was cold and alone for many nights, with little hope of escape. But the trial, as much as I suffered, was also… life-changing. I feel like a new cat, a… better one. And therefore, with Frozen River’s permission…” Rock Patch shot a glance at Frozen River, who was looking hesitantly intrigued. “I want to put in a system where the youngest cats of our group will spend a night in the tunnels, to prove their worth to not only us, but themselves.” 

“But what if they get lost?” a gold-and-ginger tabby named Sun Song called out, her long tail twitching uneasily. 

“They won’t,” Rock Patch said evenly, meeting her eyes. “Because before each trial, I shall go into the tunnels and help them find their way.” A black and white tom, Lightning Strike, jumped up, snarling under his breath.

“Come on, that’s nuts!” he snapped at Rock Patch, his pelt spiking along his spine. “Why on earth would we agree to do this?” Next to him, though, Quiet Leaf was looking thoughtful. 

“No, there’s sense in what he says,” she mused, loud enough to be heard by everyone. “It could teach our kits a valuable lesson, help them become stronger in their later seasons.” Rock Patch nodded gratefully at her, bounding down from the rock and landing in the middle of the cats. They swelled around him like a pool of water as he stretched out his paw, placing it on the ground. 

“Kits before they enter the tunnels will be called softpaws…” he said. Then he unsheathed his claws, stirring up the dust. “And after they have left, they will be called sharpclaws.” Nearby him, Frozen River hesitated, then reluctantly dipped his head. 

“I suppose… I suppose we could try it out,” he said, to Rock Patch’s start of delight. Excitement tingled along his spine, his mind momentarily lost to the rest of the cats, who were rapidly talking among each other. If they really created a tradition, with softpaws and sharpclaws and those dark tunnels, that would make him… 

Rock Patch-- the very first sharpclaw. 

\-----

Part 3:  
~~

Snow crunched as a lone figure moved through the forest, his long, thick tail leaving a trail in the drift behind him. Briefly he paused, his pale blue eyes roving the landscape, before he shook his head and moved on. With a few more agile movements he had bounded over a rotting log which lay half-buried in the snow. Just as he was searching the woods for some kind of prey, rapidly growing footsteps behind him made him whirl around, fur bristling. But instead of an attacker, a sleek gray cat was standing there panting, her breaths leaving clouds in the air. 

“Clover Runner?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The deep gray she-cat looked at him, her blue eyes wide and sad. “Is… something wrong?” Hesitantly he moved towards her, searching her face for some kind of sign. 

“Rock Patch, it’s - “ Clover Runner took a deep, shuddering breath, her hand hanging. “Leopard Petal is… dead.” 

There was a silence as Rock Patch stared at his sister, his face blank. Clover Runner sniffed, blinking rapidly to wipe away tears, and slipped closer in anticipation of comforting him. “We found her at the bottom of the human rockpit, she - she must have slipped and fallen.” Rock Patch felt her warm body press against his, and he let his sister stay there, sniffling in the silence. “Are… are you okay?”

“I - “ he started, his tail-tip flicking. “I’m okay. I just need some time to be alone.” Clover Runner nodded, respectfully dipping her head as she backed away. 

“Alright, I’ll tell the others you’re still out when I see them. And I’ll… I’ll give you some space.” She gave him one last look, then disappeared through the tall, bare trees. Rock Patch stood there, his thin pelt puffed out against the cold. His breath hissed out into the air, small clouds that dissipated in seconds. 

Leopard Petal had been one of his younger sisters, older than Clover Runner but younger than him. She’d always fussed over Clover Runner, but fought besides Rock Patch in every battle. But, still… it was so strange. Thinking back, Rock Patch found he couldn’t recall much time he’d spent with Leopard Petal, despite them being kin. It seemed he had barely gotten to know his sister before she died. 

So was that why didn’t he feel… bad?

Or anything?

Later that evening, once the sun had dipped below the lake and left the stars behind, Rock Patch awkwardly made his way down the sharp, jagged rocks to where Leopard Petal’s body lay. There were a few cats milling around, though with a quick glance he noticed that many had also left. Still, there was Clover Runner, Dove Storm, an old cat called Tawny Willow, and Falcon Leap, Leopard Petal’s partner. 

“Hello, everyone,” Rock Patch meowed, letting his voice bounce around the wide pit. Falcon Leap gave a little squeak and jerked up, his round yellow eyes dimmed with sadness. “I’m sorry you all had to wait so long. I just had to… collect myself.”

“It’s alright, Rock Patch,” Dove Storm murmured, blinking encouragingly at him. “I understand.” 

Clearing his throat, Rock Patch stared down at Leopard Petal’s still form. Her golden fur was dingier now, the mottled spots blending in with blotches of mud. A stray thought ran through Rock Patch’s mind, and right now Leopard Petal’s body looked like no cat had ever lived in it. Nothing more than a motionless pile of flesh. “Leopard Petal was an honorable cat, and she was never one to abandon her friends or her family no matter how far they had gone or how hard they had fallen,” Rock Patch meowed, trying to make his voice sound huskier with grief, then reflected on how strange that was too. “She’ll be missed by all of us.” 

Silence stretched out for a long moment as Falcon Leap gave a quiet, shuddering sob, then Rock Patch glanced up at Dove Storm. The leader and his mother shared a quick nod, then with slow movements they gently picked up Leopard Petal’s body. With Clover Runner’s help, Rock Patch hefted it over his shoulders and began to walk, taking the hidden passage out of camp, Clover Runner trailing behind to make sure Leopard Petal’s body didn’t fall. 

The procession through the forest continued until Rock Patch felt his paws sinking and shifting slightly, and he spotted the cave just a few tail-lengths away. Padding up to the entrance, Rock Patch lowered his body and let Leopard Petal’s body slide to the mossy earth. He paused there, looking at her with a somber gaze, then pushed it into the open maw. There were a few quiet thumps as his sister vanished into the darkness, then silence. 

Returning to the other cats, who were waiting at the top of the rock pit, he gave a solemn nod. Falcon Leap whimpered and buried his muzzle in Dove Storm’s thick gray pelt, while Clover Runner nosed him sympathetically. “That’s it, everyone,” murmured Rock Patch, glancing at Falcon Leap. “Go home and try to get a good sleep. If you need me, I’ll be under the sycamore.” 

Dove Storm touched Clover Runner’s shoulder with her tail, and the two she-cats padded away in the direction of their nests with Tawny Willow close behind. Already the moon was large in the sky, a soft and luminous eye watching over the cats. Falcon Leap turned to leave, but as the dark tabby poised to leap over a stream, Rock Patch looked at him and a sudden, sharp pain shot through his hind leg. 

Biting his tongue in surprise, Rock Patch coughed and spat out coppery blood, but already the pain was gone. “Rock Patch?” Falcon Leap had twisted his head around in concern, one paw accidentally having slipped into the water. “Are you okay?”

“Um…” Rock Patch felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the tom again, and the same pain prickled at his hind leg. “Yeah, I’m fine. Er… watch out tomorrow, yeah?”

“Okey-dokey,” Falcon Leap said, a slightly incredulous look on his face, and he jumped over the stream and disappeared into the bracken. Rock Patch stayed there for a long moment, his heart thumping in his chest. Sounds of the wind and animals echoed in the darkness all around him, and it took him a very long time to get to sleep that night. 

\- - - - - -

“I heard he went crazy one day. And then he walked all the way the stars and never, ever came back.”

“Nuh-uh, not true, cause I just saw him yesterday!”

“Yeah, right. You’re such a liar, Muddy Storm. I bet you think that hedgehogs actually do fly.”

“Shut up! I’m not a liar! You’re so mean. An’ it’s true, I really really did see him! He was all scraggly and skinny and he saw me too! And he had these giant blue eyes, and he stared right at me… I guess he did look kinda crazy. But, but - he was right there!”

“Was not!”

“Was too! Shut up!”

Tiny growls bounced around the tight nursery as the kits rolled over, scrabbling at each other with soft, small claws. Leaves drifted down from the roof as they jostled them, stubby tails lashing back and forth. “Sun Dapple! Muddy Storm! Cut it out!” a deep gray she-cat snapped, forcing her paw in between the kits and shoving them apart. “And Rock Patch isn’t some mystical creature. He’s just… absent.”

“Rock Patch?” Sun Dapple sat up, a confused expression on her face. “Isn’t that your brother’s name?” The gray she-cat looked away, swallowing, but slowly nodded. 

“Well… yeah,” she said, and her kits’ eyes widened with surprise and awe. 

“I thought that cat was just called the Wanderer! I didn’ know he had an actual name!” Muddy Storm’s mouth dropped open, scrambling to his mother’s side with his sister close behind. “What’s he like? Isn’t he supposed to be our leader, like Cloudy Sky? Why isn’t he here then?” Clover Runner laughed, shaking her head as if to clear all the questions away. When she spoke, however, she looked mournful through the smile. 

“He’s still the leader of our group, first of all. I mean, technically. Cloudy Sky does do most of the actual leading nowadays…” she murmured the last part, glancing in the direction of the world outside the nursery. “Something just… happened to him. And he wouldn’t tell any of us. But it was so strange… freaking out when Falcon Leap’s leg broke, muttering to himself while Rusty Apple gave birth and running away once he’d heard she died… and then he just stopped. Stopped talking to me, or Dove Storm, or Cloudy Sky or anyone. Sometimes he still passes through camp, but those days are few and far between.” She laid her head down on her paws, blue eyes distant. “I feel like every time I see him is going to be the last.”

“…mom?” Sun Dapple’s hesitant voice broke into her mother’s thoughts, and Clover Runner raised her head back up, blinking apologetically. 

“Sorry, darlings,” she meowed, leaning down to rasp her tongue over their foreheads. “I just got carried away for a second. You’ll meet Rock Patch one day, don’t worry.” She laughed as Sun Dapple and Muddy Storm burrowed into her side with squeaks of affection, tiny paws churning in her thick fur. Letting her children scramble around her, Clover Runner quietly rested her head on her paws, staring out the entrance to the den with a misty look in her eyes. At that moment, a flicker of movement, jerky and uneven, sending the gray she-cat upright. Blinking, she couldn’t suppress a hiss of shock as she saw a painfully familiar mottled brown pelt lurching across the camp. Sun Dapple and Muddy Storm looked up at their mother, confused, but Clover Runner could only murmur a quick apology before she slid out of the den, stumbling to catch up with her brother. 

“Rock Patch!” she gasped, her voice taut with emotion, but the tom only gave the smallest tilt of his head to acknowledge her presence. His pelt was no longer sleek and well groomed, but knotted with old tangles and tears, as if he’d been struggling through brambles. His blue eyes had lost their spark of mischief, glazed over with a deep confusion and sadness. “I-I was just talking about you, it’s been weeks! Where’ve you been?”

“Clover Runner?...” he murmured, and his words were rasping and slow, like he had to fight to get them out. “I thought you were comatose. No, that’s not right, I can hear you. But your body’s lying there all the same…” A chill of fear slithered down Clover Runner’s spine, but she shrugged it off as she circled around Rock Patch to try and meet his eyes. More cats were noticing Rock Patch at this point, and murmurs of surprise flitted around the camp. 

“What are you talking about? Cloudy Sky’s been asking for you for days, she doesn’t now what to do about the mother badger digging her set by the Resting Cave. You have to go talk to her, o-or maybe Dove Storm, or - “

“Clover Runner.” A growl rippled through his words, jerking Clover Runner’s frantic speech out of her mouth. She watched as he slowly swung his head back and forth, before making an effort to straighten his stance. Clover Runner hardly noticed the rest of the group gathered around the siblings, tension thick in the air. “I’m done.”

“D-Done? Rock Patch, I don’t understand, what do you mean you’re - “ But she never got a chance to finish her sentence, as Rock Patch heaved his body in the direction of the camp exit. Clover Runner watched, her jaw hanging open slightly, as he padded out and vanished into the ferns. She stood there, frozen, until tiny paws pushed against her legs and pulled her back to reality. 

“Mama?” Sun Dapple mewed, frightened, as she stared up at Clover Runner. “Why did the Wanderer - Rock Patch - leave?” Muddy Storm huddled next to his sister, tiny tail wrapped around his body. 

But Clover Runner couldn’t answer her kit, only stare into her eyes. Her eyes, so vibrantly blue, with the echoes of memory flitting beneath them… 

\---------

Sticks crunched and snapped under Rock Patch’s paws as he wandered through the woods, unsure of where he was even going at that point. Already he was struggling to hold onto the memory of Clover Runner’s distraught face, only able to see the drool sliding down her chin as she lay on the floor like a piece of prey, discarded by the group as her mind sunk further into darkness. At this point, he wasn’t even sure which one had been the real Clover Runner, the comatose mother or the saddened sister. 

Did it matter? 

He knew by this point that everything he saw came true eventually, whether he wanted it to or not. He hadn’t wanted Rusty Apple to bleed out with her wailing mate nearby, but she’d stained the earth anyways. Or Frozen River to lose his hind leg to a sickening fall from the cliff, clinging to life for agonizing weeks until he finally succumbed. But Rock Patch couldn’t help but stare at the old tom and see his pained groans, view his twisted limb with nothing more than a cold certainty. 

Nothing mattered. It all came together in the end. 

Gradually Rock Patch blinked back to reality, gazing around himself in a vague attempt to understand his current surroundings. The air was cool and damp, with pale light filtering in from some unknown source. Of course - the tunnels. Everything had started here, from when he’d become the first sharpclaw, so of course his paws would always lead him back to the winding maze. 

Had he even been in the forest to begin with? Rock Patch racked his mind, trying to decide whether he had been in the tunnels this entire time, and he’d only been seeing a future where he wandered back under the trees, when the faintest sound graced his ears and the smallest weight pressed against his foreleg. 

Curious, Rock Patch shifted to the side and stared down at the object, his bewilderment only deepening when he found that it was a smooth, tail-length stick, one that had been stripped of all its bark. Poking the stick and hearing it click on the rock, Rock Patch let his thoughts drift to what this branch was doing here. Maybe it had been washed in by the river, wherever that snaking stream started. Perhaps it had fallen through a hole in the dirt, knocked in from the forest. Faintly amused, Rock Patch rolled the stick under his paw, but froze when a small pebble clattered down besides him. 

The dappled brown tom only had enough time to swing his hazy blue eyes upwards and see the world caving in around him, sending boulders plummeting from the ceiling and screaming towards his fragile body before there was a white-hot rush of pain, a squeal of bones, and nothing. 

\-------

Part 4:  
~~

Rock Patch wasn’t sure when he’d become aware of the cave again, when his mind had deciphered the thick darkness of nothing from the cool silence of the tunnels. Slowly and painfully he drew his paws into his body, shuddering as he heaved his aching body upwards. As the pounding in his skull subsided, the mottled brown tom glanced around, trying to recall what he was doing here. The past moons had already been taxing on his mind, and there had been days where he wasn’t able to tell the future from the past, living cats from dead ones. But there was a certain… clarity to him now. Rock Patch flexed his claws, scraping them over the stone, and felt a cold dread settle into his chest as no grooves were carved into the rock. His breath stilled in the damp air, hitching in his throat, and somehow he forced himself to turn around. 

The boulders were still there, with faint trails of dirt showering from the ceiling every once in awhile. Hazy sunlight filtered in from the outside world, and if Rock Patch squinted he could see roots winding over the gaping hole the cave-in had created. His muscles tensing, Rock Patch swallowed hard and let his gaze drop, from the sunny forest to the pile of stone and earth cobbled together before him, to the single foreleg of a brown-furred cat sticking out from underneath, dark blood quietly pooling around it. 

He was dead. 

Really, Rock Patch thought with a flicker of amusement, he should feel more surprised. But he’d been wondering what the crushing weight he’d been feeling for weeks was, the flashes of a terrible pressure on his spine that woke him in the night. It was almost a relief to know what the cause of that had been, rather than lying in wait for the day to finally come. But, still, regret and sadness tugged at his heart, and he slowly lowered himself into a sitting position. The quiet of the tunnels allowed him to collect his thoughts, sorting out the past from the present. And in doing so, a creeping sense of guilt began to work its way through him as he remembered Clover Runner’s heartbroken face, her kits winding around her ankles and mewling pitifully. 

When he’d be younger, Rock Patch had always derided his youngest sister as a featherbrained fool, one who couldn’t walk a tail-length for tripping over her own paws. But she’d matured considerably in the seasons since, taking a mate in Pine Thrush and having a litter of kits that all grew into healthy, strong cats. When Rock Patch felt almost indifferent over Leopard Petal’s death, Clover Runner had been the one to console their mother in her long nights of sleeplessness. 

And now all he could see was the look in her eyes as he turned and walked away, even with the image of her comatose body splayed before him. He hadn’t had the presence of mind to warn her, to tell her to enjoy her time with Sun Dapple and Muddy Storm while it lasted… 

Shame stabbed at Rock Patch’s heart, and with an effort he dragged himself away from the sight of his buried corpse and looked up at the hole in the ceiling. Even though he was dead, perhaps he’d still be able to talk to Clover Runner, tell her that he was sorry. After all, Rock Patch knew that the deceased could still walk on the earth - he’d seen them roving around, though they never had the time or caring to speak to him, only muttering to themselves in hoarse tones. He’d been able to see these cats, so maybe Clover Runner could too. It was a long shot, but he had to try it. 

Crouching down, Rock Patch set his sights on the top of the boulder and leapt for it, landing with an unsteady wobble on the uneven surface. Cringing as he heard a slight squelch from beneath him, Rock Patch shoved the thought away and angled his head upwards, tail flicking back and forth as he prepared to jump. It wasn’t too hard to reach, and he could even see a dangling tree root to cling onto. With a burst of power from his hind legs, Rock Patch flung himself upwards, reaching for the sunlight. 

But as his claws brushed the twisting foliage, something invisible smashed into his chest, throwing Rock Patch back onto the tunnel floor with a sharp crack. Yowling in surprise, Rock Patch writhed as he tried to rid himself of the pressure, like a paw was planted on his chest. Shoving himself backwards, Rock Patch scrambled to his paws again and stared at the hole in bewilderment, unable to make any sense of what had just happened again. Determined, he sank his claws into the boulders and hauled himself upwards, once again launching his body towards the opening. 

And once again he was forced downwards, slamming into the tunnel floor so hard it made his head spin. With dawning horror, Rock Patch stared bleakly up at the unreachable escape. It was clear that whatever had dragged him down here, it didn’t want him leaving. Rock Patch swallowed hard, unable to keep his throat from swelling, and tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. It was the first time in a long time that he’d felt anything, and the sting of bitterness and longing was very much unwelcome. 

Forcing himself to raise his voice, Rock Patch yowled, “Is anyone there?”, only half-expecting a response. But to his surprise, a faint mew answered his call. A relieved grin crossed his muzzle as the tom spotted a dark gray she-cat at the top of the hole, her thick fur haloed in the sunlight. “Clover Runner!” he cried. 

“Rock Patch? Rock Patch, are you down there?” came her voice, filled with hesitation. “...is anybody?”

“Yes!” he called back, feeling the tension drain out of his body. Maybe things would work out after all. “I’m down here! Oh - I am dead, so don’t freak out when you see me…” Pacing back and forth, Rock Patch refused to take his eyes away from the hole, in case Clover Runner vanished like all his other omens did. 

“Okay, I’m coming down, then,” she shouted, and a second later Clover Runner thumped down on the top of the boulder. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, finally traveling down to the bottom of the rocks. Her deep blue eyes widened in fear and disgust, and she murmured in a voice thicker with grief, “Oh, no…” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Rock Patch meowed, avoiding her face. “I didn’t even see the rocks until they were on top of me, and I just woke up like - “ His sentence was cut off as Clover Runner moved forwards, sliding through Rock Patch’s form as if it were no more than mist. She crouched down at the base of the rock, gently tracing her paw over the brown one sticking out from the rubble, sniffling as tears clung to her eyes. 

“Oh, Rock Patch… I’m sorry I couldn’t save you in time, I…” She lay there for a few moments more, her body shaking. Finally, taking in a shuddering breath, Clover Runner stood up and spun around, eyes unknowingly passing over her motionless brother. Without another word, she leapt up the boulders and disappeared back into the real world. 

Rock Patch stared after her, his eyes clouding over. He felt like something was splitting off him, like his body had walked away and he was left behind. Robotically, Rock Patch leaned down to the battered tunnel floor and clasped the smooth wooden stick in his mouth, feeling his teeth dig into the soft wood. Then he turned, tail swishing over the ground, and padded into the darkness. 

\--------

The soft patter of paws echoed down the long cave tunnels, and the small gray tabby stopped suddenly, lifting her nose to the air. For a second she stared there, tail-tip twitching back and forth and ears pricked, before she let out a frustrated snort. “Get ahold of yourself, Misty Blossom,” she meowed, chuckling nervously. “All you have to do is find the river…”

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety that followed her as the young she-cat wandered throughout the tunnels, pausing every once and awhile to try and scent out the river. That was what Silent Leaf had told her - all she had to do was find the underground stream, drink from it, and then find her way out again. She knew he wasn’t pulling her tail, too, because he’d taken a whole gang of cats down here, just to make sure it wasn’t some old story. Misty Blossom still had some trepidation, but she trusted Silent Leaf enough to brave it on her own. And besides, it was kind of cool to be the pioneer of the revival of this old tradition. She’d get so much more respect from her groupmates.

Misty Blossom - the first sharpclaw. 

Reaching a paw out to feel around for the wall, Misty Blossom felt her pad slide over a curving surface. It seemed that the pathway she was on was opening up ahead. A rush of excitement swept through her; this must be leading out into a large cavern, maybe the one with the river! Forgetting caution, Misty Blossom bounded forwards, blinking wide yellow eyes as a dim glow of light filled her gaze. Scrambling to a halt to avoid falling off the sudden ledge, Misty Blossom carefully crept forwards and peered over the cliffside. 

Just a short drop away, she could see the underground stream snaking through the tunnel, with a small shoreline running alongside it on either side. Purring in contentment, Misty Blossom slipped off the ledge and landed on the ground with a thump, cheerfully padding over to the river. Standing over it, she could barely see her own reflection in it the surface, and was surprised when she spotted a flicker of movement beneath it. Shooting her paw out, there was a spray of glittering droplets as she scooped a small, minnow-like fish out of the water and slapped it onto the tunnel floor. Killing it with a quick snap of her jaws, Misty Blossom ate the fish in famished bites. She hadn’t had anything to eat since that morning, and she’d been starving. What luck, too; she’d have something extra to report to Silent Leaf. Now all she had to do was find her way back - 

“Who are you?”

Misty Blossom let out a shriek, jolting upwards with her pelt bushing out. Whirling around, she immediately dropped to the ground as she prepared to face whoever was there with her. She’d expected a badger, or maybe a denning fox, but instead there was only a cat like herself. Confused, Misty Blossom let her fur flatten, though her tail was still flicking threateningly. The cat was unlike any she’d ever seen, with a sallow coat of fur barely hanging on his body anymore. Several huge clumps had already fallen out, leaving mottled, bare skin underneath. His eyes were unnaturally large and a cloudy blue, like he’d spent far too long away from sunlight. And when he opened his mouth to repeat his question, she could see cracked, yellowed teeth. 

“Who are you?”

“I’m - I’m Misty Blossom,” she answered, suspicion thick in her tone. The strange tom didn’t respond, only stared at her with an unnerving gaze. Swallowing, she continued. “I live in the forest up above, with my group-leader Silent Leaf.” 

“Can you see me?” he asked, his voice ragged. He seemed almost confused at the notion. 

“Uh... yeah?” Misty Blossom said, flicking an ear. This cat was clearly very old, so his mind must be going. Pity seeped into her, at the thought of this creaking tom alone in the dark, cold tunnels. “D-don’t worry, I can definitely see you.”

But he didn’t answer in relief, only blink once and meow, “What are you doing here?”

Misty Blossom eyed the tom, from his gnarled claws to his skinny flanks. He barely looked like he could move, let alone fight. She didn’t have anything to worry about. “W-well… Sun Dapple died yesterday - she’s the oldest cat in our group, she was born like forever ago - but before she died, she told us all about this tradition from when she was young. It was this thing where cats would go into tunnels beneath our territory, to turn from a “softpaw” into a “sharpclaw”. Like an honor trial? It was all started by this ancient cat called The Wanderer. Silent Leaf thought it sounded interesting, so he sent a bunch of cats down to check it out. I’m… the first softpaw, I guess. And I’ll be the first sharpclaw once I get outta here.”

The hairless tom was quiet, but Misty Blossom swore she saw his eyes flash with a faint spark of light. The uncomfortable silence stretched out between the two cats, Misty Blossom scuffling her paws on the ground. “So… what’s your name?” she asked, desperate to relieve the tension.

The tom’s tail, which looked like it had been full and thick a long time ago, briefly lifted up, its tip twitching. He paused, conflicted emotions briefly passing over his face, then looked up and met Misty Blossom’s eyes like he was seeing her for the first time. In a dispassionate tone, he responded to her. 

“My name is Rock.”

**Author's Note:**

> https://sta.sh/016crgb8fmt6
> 
> Some accompanying art I drew.


End file.
